Never Let Me Go
by dhobbs
Summary: When Bella leaves, feeling trapped in her supposed perfect life with Edward, he is forced to take a closer look at his life and his priorities. Will he change to get her back? Or will he let her go to chase her dreams? AH, OOC.
1. Prologue: Let Me Go

**Disclaimer: **Twilight and any recognisable characters within do not belong to me, nor does any other recognisable content.

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**Let Me Go  
**BPOV

**-**LetMeGo**-**

I was the clumsiest kid on the playground.

I was the girl on the playground with the perpetually skinned knees, scabbed elbows and grazed hands.

There was this one time, in fourth grade, when I had fallen down a slippery hill and scraped the skin right off my entire left kneecap. I had been trying to run away from Emmett - he was always chasing me and trying to tickle me or goad me into something - but I should have known better.

My boy had been there though, and he had taken me inside to his father and held my hand as Carlisle gently wiped the wound with antiseptic. Then we'd gone back outside to play, and I'd fallen on _the same exact spot_ and skinned my entire right knee.

"Only you, Bella," Carlisle had said, wiping up my other knee not half an hour after he'd finished the first one.

Edward held my hand through that one, too.

Carlisle had advised me to take it easy, perhaps try not to run around so much. But I've always been stubborn and never aware of what's for my own good, so two days later when both knees were lovely and scabbed up, I slipped on wet grass going uphill and took off the scabs that had formed, re-opening both wounds simultaneously.

I vividly remember the intense burning on my knees as I knelt on the grass, furiously willing the watering in my eyes to just _go away_, I already looked like a spaz I didn't need to be labelled a baby on top of that.

But Edward had found me, wiped my eyes and taken me gently by the hand, to see his father once again.

Carlisle had given me this look, this _I told you so_ look, but I was adamant that it was the weather in Forks.

I blamed the wetness.

The atrocious weather of Forks, Washington. Forever damp, and grey, and dismal. The permanent damp didn't help my grace, but then again neither did ny inherent clumsiness.

So, I was the clumsy kid.

After that came junior high, where I was the awkward pre-teen.

A huge growth spurt between grades 6 and 7 had left me with gangly limbs that didn't seem to fit my body right; I was all knobby knees and sharp elbows, which I didn't know what to do with, more often than not resulting in a fair share of bruises.

Oh, and braces. All through junior high I had braces - and not the subtle, cool invisible ones you get now - no. I had full on metal-mouth, brace face braces that every budding teenager dreads.

At least I can be thankful that I didn't have headgear.

The mortification didn't stop there. I had hair that never seemed to lie straight - it always frizzed up at unfortunate angles leaving me looking as though I was always coming from just being shocked by an electric socket. And I had eyes that were far too big for my face, round intense things, and the chest of a twelve year old boy - which, believe me, is a huge deal when you're best friends with Rosalie Hale and she has the body of a fucking mud flap girl when she's only a year older than you at the tender age of fourteen.

All through this though, Edward never stopped being my friend. Even when it became 'uncool' for boys and girls to hang out together, he stuck by me, even sticking up for me when Lauren Mallory tried to bully me about… well all the unfortunate aspects of my being previously mentioned.

So, I was the awkward pre-teen.

But then, magically, something amazing happened… and now I can talk to animals!

No, nothing quite that exciting. But the braces did come off, and I filled out and got the boobs I'd always dreamed about, I got the hips and suddenly my knees didn't seem so knobby anymore and I grew into my elbows and my eyes and I figured out how to control my hair and all that other stuff… and I became… Bella.

Bella; the soft-spoken but nevertheless confident high school student, and then college student, and now soon to be graduate. Bella with the great friends and even greater boyfriend, and who was just living a great life.

And the 'even greater' boyfriend who had been there for me throughout.

Edward.

He had loved me when I was clumsy, and scabby, and then when I was awkward and self-conscious, and then even more when I was self-conscious anymore (though he claimed he thought I was beautiful even with the braces and the electro-shock hair). He was my awkward first date, and even more awkward first kiss, before becoming the best boyfriend, friend and lover a girl could ask for.

I had a great life going. Soon-to-be-college-graduate, with not a clue about how life was going to go but ready to take it in stride. My great friends, all paired up with their other halves - Rosalie and Emmett, Alice and Jasper, Angela and Ben… all of them with their perfect relationships.

And then there was me, with my perfect boyfriend. My genius, older boyfriend who had graduated early and gone on to medical school two years ahead of the curve, my other half, who was sweet and attentive and caring some nights, and dominating and possessive and ohsofuckhot others.

He was my rock. There for me when I fell down, there for me through the braces and the awful hair and the _really _awful dress sense, and he still found it within himself to like me, to date me, to _love_ me.

Because we were in love. And he had always been there for me. There when my mother left without a word and my father took to drinking to drown his sorrows, finding more solace in the bottom of a beer bottle than he ever even attempted to find with me. He was there when it felt like my whole world was falling apart - there to remind me that it wasn't, and that he was there.

He was my rock, my world.

Perfect, right?*

All of this should equate to the perfect life. Great group of friends, even better boyfriend, soon to be graduates, the whole world out oyster… right?

So why did everything feel less than perfect? Why was I feeling like I was being suffocated, like I couldn't breathe right being so trapped in this life. I was supposed to be staying in Seattle with everyone else, doing part time work over the summer before starting grad school to become a teacher in the fall. Edward and I had recently moved into out own apartment together… and I thought it was what I had wanted at the time…

But now I was feeling boxed in. Trapped. Trapped by this life that I thought I wanted.

I was feeling tied down. I worried that it was my mothers latent flighty gene coming through - reasoned with myself that that was all it was.

But that didn't stop the feeling. More than anything I didn't want to be tied down anymore.

I wanted to be let go.

**-**LetMeGo**-**

*Always read the fine print.


	2. Wait For You

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight. If I did, there would have been a lot more secks.

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**Chapter 1: Wait For You  
**EPOV

-(Never)LetMeGo-

I walk in the front door and immediately stop as I take in the scene before me. Everything is different. There isn't the homely smell of dinner, or the warm light from the living room where Bella isn't waiting up for me, as she usually does. Instead, I'm greeted by a cold, dark, silent apartment, with no sign of Bella.

"Bella?" I call out, curious. Usually she's waiting up for me with a smile and plate of hot food, something which I've clearly taken for granted if I miss it this much now that it's not here. I shut the door behind me with a click, the sound seemingly extra loud as it echoes through the apartment. It seems emptier in here.

Walking forward a few steps, the only source of life is the blinking of the answering machine. I press the button and listen to the first few messages. My mother, asking us around for dinner, my sister reminding me, again, about calling our mother because she's driving her crazy, and then a message that stops me cold.

A Miss Meyer, from the New York Institute of Photography. She's calling to inform Miss Swan that she has been graciously accepted into their summer programme, with the view to a more permanent position should the reaction to her work be a positive one, and that she looks forward to seeing her soon.

What?

I play the message again, certain that I haven't heard right. Bella isn't going to New York for the summer, we were supposed to stay here, in Seattle, while I finish my extra courses and get enough credits to hopefully graduate early. That was the plan. So who is this Miss Meyer and why is she calling to inform Bella of her accepted application. When did Bella apply for a photography internship?

I must have voiced this last part aloud, because a quiet voice answers me.

"A few months ago." I look up to see Bella standing in the darkened hallway. There's just enough light from the moon and the streetlights that I can make her out, but I don't notice her packed bag until she picks it up and walks forward, placing it by the door.

"What's that?" I ask, realising belatedly it's the entirely wrong question to ask, but I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around this.

"Edward..." Bella begins, her words trailing off. I have no idea where this is going, and am completely blindsided.

"You applied for a photography internship months ago." My statement is flat. Devoid of emotion. I don't even know what I'm feeling.

"Yes," Bella answers, her voice trembling. If I were looking at her, I'm sure I would see her bottom lip trembling as she tries to rein in her emotion. As it is, I can't look at her without falling apart.

Why does she have a bag?

"I just wanted to see if I was good enough," she explains, though this doesn't really tell me much.

"You applied months ago, and didn't tell me why?"

I can see her slump out of the corner of my eye. "I don't know. Fear of condescension? I thought you might belittle it."

At this my eyes snap to hers, the most prevalent emotion within me anger. "And when have I ever done that?" I ask her, spitting the words out at her.

She juts her chin out, fire entering her eyes. "When I first mentioned it, years ago. 'It's not like photography is a real career though, right?'" From her tone, I know she's repeating my words, but for the life of me I can't remember when this conversation was had.

But Bella has a great memory, so I must have said it. "But why New York? Why this summer? I though we had plans."

Bella scoffs slightly. "New York because it is the best photography internship opportunity in the US and I wanted to know if I was good enough. And I am. And this summer because I'm tired, Edward. Tired of your plan. You get to live your dream, working towards being a doctor, working at the hospital for little to no money, while I slave away at that shitty diner to make ends meet. I love you," she finishes, a little out of breath. "But I don't love our life."

I blink a few times, stunned. She's never mentioned being discontent in the life we've made together before this night. I know she hates her job, but it's only for a few years, until I start to make money. Then I can give her anything, everything.

When I voice this she shakes her head. "I don't care about the money, Edward. I care about you. You're up at the crack of dawn and back twenty hours later. I miss you. This wouldn't be so hard if I had you, but I don't."

I start to protest but she levels me with a look. "When was the last time we had sex, Edward? When was the last time we even spent more than an hour together?" I try to count back and realise that she's right. I've been entirely neglectful. But I still don't see why she has to run away to New York.

"I'll scale back. I don't have to graduate early. Just don't leave."

She shakes her head, her eyes welling up. "God, it's not about that, either. Edward. I don't want you giving up your dream, but I also don't want to give up mine. I'm only going to go for the summer. I just need some time to myself."

"Time to yourself," I repeat, a little dazed. "Miss Meyer," I spit out the name, "mentioned a more permanent position. What about that? What happens if you get offered a job there?"

Bella shrugs, and for some reason this infuriates me.

"You don't know? Jesus, Bella. You've got all this figured out, but you don't know if you're even going to come back to me?"

Bella shakes her head furiously, "I'm always going to come back to you. You're my home, Edward."

My hands are shaking with the need to throw something. "If I'm your home, then why are you leaving?"

"Because you haven't been here!" The words explode out of her and she stand there, chest heaving afterwards. The words are more than a release of sound, they're a purging, something she's obviously been keeping in for a while. "You're always gone, and while I'm always missing you - so much that it hurts - it never seems like you miss me." She takes a step forward, as if to touch me, but stops at the last minute. "I miss you. Everyday. I ache for you, in more ways than I thought possible. But you never seem to miss me."

I try to refute her words, but I realise that I've been walking around on autopilot. I have been taking her for granted, and now I'm scared that it's too late.

"Don't. Don't walk out that door, Bella."

I've resorted to begging.

"I need to Edward. This is something for me, can't you see that?"

I shake my head. "Bella, if you leave..." I trail off, not wanting to finish my threat now that I've started. I'm not sure I mean it, but there's a gaping hole somewhere between my chest and my stomach where I've just realised what a shit I've been, and I need to funnel the anger somewhere. Bella's closest.

"If I leave, what, Edward?" Her words have taken on a dangerous edge, and I know I shouldn't answer because then it really will be too late, but the high emotions make my words float up like word vomit and I can't stop them before they're rolling off my tongue.

"Don't bother coming back."

Bella literally gasps, taking a step back, a hand flying to her chest. Under normal circumstances, I would tease her for being so dramatic. I used to think that she just stayed home practicing her expressions in the mirror so that she'd have the perfect one for any given occasion.

But these aren't normal circumstances.

"Are you making me choose?"

She takes my silence in the affirmative.

"You know I don't like ultimatums," it's true. When Mike Newton told her to choose between himself and Tyler Crowley in the fifth grade, she ended up choosing Tyler just out of spite, even though she hated him as well. She doesn't do well with ultimatums.

I look at her pointedly, praying that the same thing won't happen here.

"Well, I guess that's that, then," she says quietly, turning around and picking up her bag. I'm stunned. I didn't actually think she wouldn't pick me. Her hand is on the doorknob behind her, about to close the door when she stops. I feel my heart give a flutter of hope, but it dies quickly when she whispers, "Goodbye, Edward."

The door shuts with a resounding click.

And then there's silence.

We weren't yelling, but my ears are ringing, and i sink down into the armchair behind me out of sheer exhaustion. I can't believe that she's gone. My eyes stay trained on the door, certain that it will fly open at any moment, she'll come tripping through the door into my arms and all will be well.

That, or I'll wake up and it will all be a dream.

An hour passes and I'm forced to admit that she's really gone.

Gone.

Why didn't I chase after? Why didn't I fly after her, taker her into my arms and make sure that she knew she can always come back. Of course she can come back. I need her.

Oh god. I've fucked this up.

I reach for my phone and send her a text. I'm sorry. Please come back.

I pace back and forth, waiting for her reply.

The answer I receive isn't all that encouraging. I need to do this. Please. Give me time.

Time.

My girlfriend is asking for time. That never ends well. I'm barely conscious of doing it, but before I know it, I'm sitting back down with a glass of brandy in hand. Oh well. Here's to time. Bottoms up.

The rest of the night is a blur of drinking and commiserating with myself. The What if? Game plays a heavy role in my thoughts as I reply tonights conversation over and over. What if I'd said something differently? What if I'd been more excited? I never even got to tell her how proud I am of her - because I am. Even if it feels like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, she must have seriously impressed that Miss Meyer in order to get in with such a late application.

What ifs about tonight quickly turn into questioning the past few months. Things I could have done differently. Things she could have spoken up about earlier.

But in the end, I don't know what I could have changed to make her stay. There are probably a million things. All I know is, she's gone, and I'm not going to be whole until she's back again. So I'll wait. As long as it takes.

-(Never)LetMeGo-

My dreams that night are a mixture of memories, snippets of my life with Bella as I drift in and out of consciousness.

_"Edward, stop it!" You're laughing as I twirl you around in a tight circle, my hands firmly around your middle. Your legs are clear off the ground, and from this angle it looks like you're flying. I go to set you down, but trip and I'm forced to try to absorb the brunt of the fall. We end up on the soft grass with you lying mostly on top of me, your front pressed up against my front. Your hair is making a delicious curtain around us and I reach up a hand to push some behind an ear._

_You're glowing, happy and radiant in your smiles and I can't help but mirror your expression. It's a lazy summer afternoon, the last summer before we go off to college, and we literally have not a care in the world. I'm so excited to be starting this new adventure with you, and I can't wait to discover all the new things that are out there with you by my side._

_Your hand reaches up to cup my face, your thumb grazing along my cheekbone._

_"Where did you go just then?" you ask, your voice caressing me. You have the warmest voice, the warmest eyes, the softest skin. Everything about you is just home._

_"Nowhere," I smile, shaking my head slightly. "I'm right here."_

_You giggle and bend down to kiss me lightly, your tongue teasing my lips._

_"Hey, no making out you two, we're supposed to be getting this tent set up!" The obnoxious call of my brother breaks our embrace and you clumsily get off me, heading towards the group. I lie there for a few moments longer, missing the warmth of the length of your body against mine._

-(Never)LetMeGo-_  
_

_You're not in the memory, but the reminder of your presence is. I've just arrived home after work and the smell of you is all over it. I can almost literally follow your scent around the room, retracing your steps, but I don't, because there's something on my bed._

_Two long strides and I'm there, picking up a folded origami tiger ('because cranes and flowers are for pansies', your words, not mine) and unfold it to find 'Cheer up. Only forty eight more days until we're free. I love you. B.'_

_The note is just what I need to put a smile on my face, and even though you're not physically there, you are, in just one of the many thousand ways you make my life better._

-(Never)LetMeGo-_  
_

_I shut the door to my dorm room behind me, only halting in my movements when I look up to find you on my bed, sitting cross-legged with the sweetest smile on your face._

_"Hey," you smile. "I missed you today." You're referring to the fact that I snuck out to get to an early class. I told you that I was just going to skip it, and enjoy sleeping in with you for once, but the risk of missing something important got to be too much for me and I had to go._

_You understand this. i can tell by your smile that you're not mad, simply amused by my controlling tendencies. I lean down to give you a kiss, getting lost in your lips until a thought occurs to me. I pull back._

_"How did you get in here?" I'm sure I locked the door before I left for yours last night._

_You smile coquettishly and shrug. I'm not going to let it go that easy though._

_"Seriously."_

_You make a huffing noise and shake your head, still smiling at me. "It was no big deal. Your RA seems to have a bit of a crush on me. I told him that we were broken up and I just needed to get some stuff from your room while you weren't there, you know, to help the healing process." You snort lightly and grins. "He was more than happy to help."_

_I can't help it, but a flare of jealousy swells up in me, taking root right in the centre of my gut._

_"You can't lead him on like that. Garrett's going to be all over you now."_

_You simply roll your eyes at me. "Well then, the next time we see him, we'll just have to prove to him that we got back together then, won't we?" You know just what to say to calm and indulge my caveman tendencies. And I intend to have some fun with this._

_"Still," I say, pouting. "I would rather we didn't break up at all. Pretend or otherwise."_

_You shake your head at me as if to say that I'm being silly, but push gently on my shoulders anyway, until you're straddling my lap, looking down on me._

_"Well, in the future we won't. And in the meantime, let's give him a really good make-up to listen to," you grin wickedly and swiftly removes your shirt. All thoughts of Garrett or anyone outside of this room as swept away with the image of your bare chest in front of me._

_Hell yeah._

-(Never)LetMeGo-_  
_

_You are snapping away with your camera, pissing me off as I'm trying to study._

_"Stop," I say forcefully, pushing the lens out of my face. You send an adorably annoying pout my way, but set the camera down anyway._

_You lay back on the bed instead, kicking your feet up into the air, arms outstretched. You always look like you're trying to reach for something when you lies like this, ever the optimist, ever the dreamer._

_"I got some good shots today," you say casually, trying to start a conversation. "The lighting down by the pier was perfection. You should see some of the ones of this old couple. I swear, they were arguing like-"_

_But I cut you off. "That's nice. Maybe you can show me sometime." I don't mean to be harsh, but I'm trying to focus._

_In my periphery, I see your arms and legs fall, and I hate that I'm the cause for your drop in mood._

_I turn to you with a sigh and apologise. "I'm sorry. I'm cranky and I need to get this done for tomorrow."_

_Your eyes have gone blank, something I hate. When you put your mask up and hide from me like this it makes me feel like I don't know you, when I'm the person that knows you best in the world. It makes me feel... distant, from you._

_"Sure, fine. I'll just go find Jasper." Jasper is a guy in your photography class that you've bonded with. I'm not jealous, per say, but you so casually mentioning him puts me on edge._

_I snort. "Jasper. Yeah, majoring in photography. Like Photography is a real career." Not like Pre-Med, which I'm doing. Not like teaching, which you are._

_I notice your shoulders stiffen, and your tone is off when you say goodbye, but it's not until hours later that it clicks that that look on your face was you being crushed, made insignificant. By me._

I wake up with a start from that last memory, and curse myself. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like something died in there overnight, but all I can think about was that I put that look on her face. And the more I think about it, the more I realise that it wasn't just the one time either.

I've been doing this to her for years without even noticing.

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**I'd love to hear your thoughts. Drop me a line :) The song in the chapter titles is Wait For You by Elliot Yamin. So sweet.  
**


	3. If You Ever Come Back

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Twilight. Sadfayse.

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**Chapter 2: If You Ever Come Back  
**BPOV

-(Never)LetMeGo-

_I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing._

Isn't that how the song goes?

Well it's a pretty perfect reflection of my life right now. Life imitating art or art imitating life or whatever the idiom is. Life has become something to live through, rather than live for. And that's because the thing that I lived for has suddenly disappeared from my life, without even so much as a forwarding number for me to reach her at.

I haven't heard from Bella since that last text that night. It's been three weeks.

Three hellish weeks in which school and work have fallen by the wayside.

It's ironic that the things that were keeping Bella and I apart were the first things to fall apart once she left. And it's just the first example of my life falling apart without her.

I never realised how much Bella did for me, how much I relied on her mere presence, until she left.

Cooking, cleaning, laundry are just the first three of a very long list.

She even reminded me to keep in touch with my friends and family.

With her gone, along with the crippling depression that I've sunk into, those relationships are failing too. They keep calling, but I don't have the energy to answer. Or call back.

Alice, for one, is relentless. My mother is another. Of course, I can't talk to them without hearing the pity prevalent in their tones these days so I prefer to hit ignore, and drown myself in another whiskey glass.

The man looking back at me in the mirror is a mere shadow of his former self. Scruff lingers along his jawline where mine was clean shaven. His eyes are gaunt and surrounded by deep purple circles where mine were vibrant and alive. His eyes are dead. His clothes are beginning to hang off him in a way that suggests he hasn't been eating - which he hasn't, because his main provider for that sort of thing moved clear across the country to escape him.

Bella never came right out and said that, but it's how I feel nonetheless.

I've fallen into a bad pattern. Wake from nightmares, shuffle through my day, come home expecting to see Bella, fall into despair at my still empty apartment, pour myself a drink or seven until I pass out and repeat.

Everything is the way she left it. I haven't moved anything in case she returns unexpectedly. The rent next month is probably going to be too much for me to cover with just my savings alone, but I don't dare sublet or go somewhere else in case she does decide to come back and this is the first place she looks for me.

It's irrational, and pretty stupid, but there it is.

Even Emmett has been trying to get me to at least put some of her stuff away, but it's not like she's died. Or left me. She's just... left. For a bit. I hope.

Oh, God, how I hope.

At night, my sleep is saturated with dreams of Bella. Memories, imagined conversation, possible future scenarios that I once thought were possible but am now not so sure about. And always I'm plagued with the what ifs. What if, what if, what if.

What if she had loved me enough to stay?

I push that thought out as soon as it enters my head, sure in Bella's love for me. It was a ridiculous thought to begin with.

But then another, not-so-ridiculous thought enters my head.

What if I loved her enough to let her go?

And then that stupid ultimatum comes floating through my head and I spiral into another bout of wallowing and despair.

Lather, rinse, repeat. As needed.

One night I come home and notice that the answering machine is too full to take any more messages. That's when I realise I should probably return a couple of phone calls. I'm actually surprised that Alice hasn't sent Emmett or Jasper over here yet to physically dra me out of the house.

Of course, I speak too soon, because a knock comes at the door just as I'm thinking that. Only, it's louder than a knock, and more of a pounding, my brother's signature greeting. He accompanies it with an, "Open up, asshole, or i'm busting down the door."

I weakly tell him it's open, and in he comes with Jasper in tow. Ah, a double team. I'm still not going out.

"We're going out."

No. No I'm not. I indicate this with a shake of my head, too exhausted to voice my argument.

"Yes." Emmett leaves no room for argument, physically lifting me from the couch and setting me on my feet. "First, shower. Then, get dressed. Third, we go out and feed you and maybe have a couple of beers. This being alone has gone on long enough. We're worried about you."

Jasper nods his agreement emphatically, "Plus, drinking alone isn't a good start, Edward. Come out for a social evening. You'll see not all is lost."

All I want to do is scream at him. At them. At everyone. Everything is lost. Bella is gone. I haven't spoken to her for three weeks. I don't want a social evening, I just want to stay inside, in my sweats, and drink until I can forget the harsh words I said to her.

Apparently I voiced this last part out loud because Emmett cocks his eyebrow at me.

"And how's that working out for you so far?"

Point taken.

Jasper nods again. "You can't always get what you want."

Emmett joins in on his train of thought. "But if you're lucky, you'll have kickass relatives and friends that will care enough to kick your ass until you know what's good for you."

I resign myself to the fact that I'll be going out tonight.

"Fine. But the sweatpants stay on."

Emmett raises his hands in surrender. "I'm just glad you're wearing any."

He's right. The first week after Ultimatum-gate, as I've started referring to it in my head (it was a lot catchier than The Night It All Went To Hell and TNIAWTH isn't a good acronym) I didn't wear pants at all.

Emmett hasn't seen that much of my legs since last summer, when I lost a bet and had to wear ridiculously short swim trunks.

Bella had laughed and said that I still looked sexy.

Dammit.

"Fine." I reiterate, talking myself into going out. "Give me two minutes."

-(Never)LetMeGo-

Twenty minutes later and we're sitting in our favourite bar with a large pile of bottomless hot wings in front of us and a beer each. Apparently, my alcohol intake is going to be monitored, but for now I'm allowed one beer.

Oh, joy of joys.

Emmett and Jasper are joking around like it's business as usual, and sometimes I can work up the energy for a smile, but for the most part I'm the odd man out in this charade - which just suits me fine. At least here I can mope and eat wings. That's a step up.

Of course, they don't limit my alcohol intake, and two refills of the wings along with the several (read:twelve) beers that accompanied them and we're all fairly smashed.

I internally groan when I see a group of girls take notice of our table, the flock descending on us without much preamble. Emmett is happily married and Jasper is engaged to our sister, so I know nothing is going to happen, but they still engage the two girls that approach them in friendly conversation. That leaves me, stuck in my grey area, with a bottle blonde looking me up and down.

"Bad break up?" she asks me, a commiserating smile on her face.

I force a wry smile onto my own. "Is it that obvious?"

I don't know why I said that. I don't know if Bella and I are broken up. I don't want to be, but didn't I say it had to be that way?

It doesn't have to be that way.

While I'm thinking this through, the girl has sidled up to me, one hand stroking up and down my arm. She wants to know if she can make me feel better. I actually think about it for a second. Could she? Could I lose myself in a night of meaningless sex with someone who is literally the opposite of... her?

The answer, I'm relieved to find, is no.

No. I don't want to have sex with this girl. There are no stirrings of desire, no anticipation of something to come. There's nothing about her that entices me. And I can't even think about what it might do to Bella if she were to see me with this girl draped all over me. I know I don't take kindly to men fawning all over her.

And that's when I realise that I need to talk to Bella. This silence between us isn't helping anyone, I don't know where we stand, but I certainly don't want it to be over between us. So, with a grunt of disapproval towards the bottle blonde, I push her firmly off me and throw some money down on the table. Then I get a cab and go straight home, opening up my e-mail once I'm there.

The realisation that Bella and I need to have a serious conversation, sooner, rather than later, has sobered me up greatly, and so I sit down to draft out an e-mail.

In it, I apologise. A lot. But I also tell her what I want. Not for this to be over. To have a serious conversation about her wants, her needs. About compromise.

There's a lot of rambling, and I have the presence of mind to realise that I'm not as sober as I previously assumed, so instead of sending it I save it to my drafts, where it lies amongst the thousands of other e-mails I meant to send, the others being of a much more angry or depressed nature.

I'm not too proud to tell you that there's a lot of begging in those e-mails.

With a groan I head off to bed, making a note to look over the message in the morning. I'll edit it a little and then send it. Maybe. Probably.

My head hits the pillow and I'm out like a light, the memories flooding in faster than ever before.

-(Never)LetMeGo-

_We're at some frat party, mutually dragged their by our friends. I wasn't even allowed to see you beforehand, being dragged here separately by Emmett, and am forced to look for you through the thick, sweaty crowd._

_I eventually locate you in the living room, and have to stop to catch my breath at the sight of you._

_In that moment, I have never loved my sister more. She's dressed you up in some sinful little slinky blue number that dances along your skin as you writhe to the beat of the music. I've never seen you move like this, and all I can think is what a shame that is. I'm definitely going to need to see you like this a lot more._

_My lust is quickly overtaken by jealousy as some faceless frat boy comes up behind you, grinding his junk into your ass. I think you can tell immediately that it isn't me, because you try to subtly shift positions so that you're not pressed up against him. He doesn't take the hint though, and moves again, this time pushing up against you more aggressively._

_That's when my jealousy turns to rage._

_I'm starting over to where you are, but the crowd of bodies is thick and it's taking time. I keep my eyes focused on you though, and part through the crowd just in time to see you push your hand up against his chest and tell him, "No thanks, buddy. I'm taken."_

_The asshole has the audacity to laugh, and grins cockily. "I don't see anyone claiming this spot."_

_Righteous indignation fills your face and I know I need to step in before you try and seriously hurt this guy, as satisfying as that would be._

_"Sorry I took so long, babe," I say, stepping behind you to wrap an arm possessively around your middle before placing a kiss to your neck. I whisper to you to just let it go, calm down, dance with me, and the words seem to have the desired effect as you melt into me. The guy finally takes a hint and moves on to presumably his next victim, but I push thoughts of him out of my mind as I feel you slide your body against me._

_You turn your head and smile in a way that is simultaneously sexy and sweet, and makes my heart do funny things inside my chest. Nothing is better than you. That's when the caveman instinct returns._

_"I was going to hit him if he touched you again," I growl into your neck, feeling the vibrations float along your skin. You shudder and press against me harder._

_"I'm glad you didn't." Your words belie your reaction to my words and I squeeze you to call bullshit. You shake your head, understanding my meaning and just move with me._

_"We wouldn't have been able to do this," you say, whipping around in my embrace to face me, placing your legs on either side of mine and grinding against me slowly._

_Oh yeah. Sometimes it's good to rein it in._

-(Never)LetMeGo-

The next morning comes with an unwelcome wood and a message from my sister asking, no, ordering, me to meet her for lunch.

I drag myself out of bed and have a cold shower, unwilling to even entertain thoughts of lust without her here. Two hours later and I'm having brunch with Alice at her favourite restaurant. She wants to talk about our parents' upcoming anniversary party, and the various tasks I've been assigned (Emmett has only been spared the humiliation because the last time he was left with something to do for one of these things, we had a massive cock cake instead of the three tiered birthday cake I was supposed to receive. Thank you, Emmett).

All I want to talk about it Bella.

Jasper let it slip the night before that Bella and Alice spoke. Bella and Alice are in touch, and we're not, and that's killing me, and it's the only reason that I'm even here right now.

Screw the party, I want to know about Bella.

I'm not even subtle about it either, interrupting Alice before she's even finished speaking and asking her outright how she is.

Alice blinks at me, her face suddenly the picture perfect mask of pity.

"Edward..." she starts, but doesn't finish. "We're worried about you."

I roll my eyes. "That's not what I asked you."

"But that's what I'm telling you. I don't want to get in the middle of this. She is my best friend and you are my brother. I'm angry at both of you."

"Both of us?' My tone is incredulous because I can't possibly understand why she would be angry at Bella, but Alice misinterprets it to mean that I can't see why she's mad at me.

"Yes. I'm angry at you. Anyone would see that you were working too hard, and Bella put up with it for far too long. You don't mean to, Edward, but you're a little... demeaning of some things." I frown at this, but Alice continues.

"Like when I wanted to pursue party planning. Or when Emmett was going to buy that prank shop. Or Jasper's photography degree," she looks at me pointedly and I get the point. Drilled into my skull.

I've been a total asshole.

But that still doesn't explain why she's mad at Bella.

Alice is only too happy to enlighten me.

"She should have said something before. She was so unhappy, but if she'd just talked to you all of this could have been avoided."

"Well, why didn't she say something? Why just leave?"

Alice looks at me with even more pity, and I love my sister, but i want to wipe that look right off her face. "Because she was scared, Edward. Of losing you. And look how you reacted."

I hang my head in shame. She's right. She's so right. I acted exactly how Bella was terrified I would, justifying her actions.

It's been said, but I think it needs reiterating.

I'm an asshole.

"Okay, I'll give her her time. And space. But can you just tell her something for me? Just tell her..." I pause, searching for the right thing to say. I finally realise there's no perfect phrase that will fix this, but I can let her know that I'm thinking about her. "I miss her. Just tell her I miss her."

Alice doesn't say anything for the longest time, but the look on her face is highly suspicious.

"What?" I finally ask, irritated at her expression.

"You can tell her yourself. She sent back the RSVP to Mom and Dad's. She's coming to the party." I'm so excited by this - I'll get to see her at the party, the party which is in less than two weeks - that I almost miss the next words out of Alice's mouth.

"She ticked plus-one, Edward. She's not coming alone."

I drown as I think about all the possibilities of what that might mean.

* * *

**Any thoughts? The title of this chapter is the song If You Ever Come Back by The Script, and the lyrics (the first line of the chapter) comes from Breakeven, also by The Script. **


	4. Sometime Around Midnight

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Twilight. Not sure I could handle the responsibility.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Sometime Around Midnight**  
EPOV

-(Never)LetMeGo-

Two weeks later and it's the night of my parents 30th anniversary party.

Alice has gone all out, making it into a massively formal affair, with invitations and a sit down meal and a live band. It's a glorified wedding reception.

If I'm being honest, Alice has done an amazing job. We're in the garden and surrounded by twinkly lights and lanterns and it's a pretty magical affair.

If only I could enjoy it. I'm too busy standing at the bar (open, thank god) and waiting for Bella to show up with her supposed plus one. I'm dying to know what the repercussion of that statement are, and I'm pretty much drinking myself into oblivion the longer it takes for her to arrive.

Alice approaches to me to thank me for my part (not that I did much) and I make a quick pit-stop with my parents to wish them congratulations, but other than that I'm parked at the bar, the vantage point being perfect for an overview of the whole party.

Bella and I still haven't exchanged a word since Ultimatum-Gate, as that long, pleading message I was going to send sits wasting away in the draft box of my e-mail, along with all of the others. It's like a wasteland of lost promises in there, dozens of messages, thousands of words, that she will never see.

I couldn't bring myself to send it after hearing that she was bringing someone, and instead sat in agony as I reread the words over and over to myself.

The party winds on and I can see others around me getting pretty tipsy. Alice has had one too many glasses of champagne and is being twirled by Jasper on the dance floor, while my parents stand toe to toe, spinning slowly in more of an intimate embrace than a dance to the slow tinklings of the piano. A slow, sweet melody is playing through the speakers as the band takes a break, toasting themselves over in the corner.

Emmett is nearly passed out on a table but is still managing to fawn over pregnant Rosalie, who looks both pissed and amused. It's getting close to midnight, and the party is maybe only halfway through. Shindigs like this tend to go on for a while, people unwilling to stop the merriment.

I close my eyes to stop the barrage of thoughts about what could have been had I been less of an ass and been at this party with Bella instead of just waiting for her. And then, when I open them, it's as if by pure force of will she has appeared.

She catches my eye across the garden, but I don't see the crowd of people for her smile. It's a small, melancholy one. I don't think she's seen me yet. She's in deep conversation with a small group of people, one short man whom I don't recognise, but ascertain must be her plus one. Someone's telling a story and she suddenly lets out a quiet laugh, raising her glass to toast whoever is speaking. I wonder who got her the drink, because she certainly didn't come up here and get it herself, I would have felt her presence.

I start debating with myself as to whether I should approach her or not. Should I wait for her to come to me? Or should I make the first move? I don't know what the proper etiquette, or hell even what I want to do, in a situation like this. So much has been left up in the air, and all I can think about it how radiant she looks. She's dressed in a flowy, white summery type dress thing that shows off her shoulders and her legs, her hair in a messy bun atop her head. Her long neck, always a favourite feature of mine, is exposed, elongated and she looks as though she's truly living up to her namesake. I have to stifle a smile when I see that her feet are bare. She always hated anything covering her feet, and one of her favourite feelings in the world is soft grass underfoot.

-(Never)LetMeGo-

_It's the summer before senior year and we're lazing in the meadow, on a rare sunny day in Forks. The sun floats through your hair, highlighting the reds and lighter browns that become apparent in the summer, and for a moment you seem as though you are glowing. You're almost ethereal. But then you turn to me and smile, rambling about how much you love the sun on your skin and the grass under you and I can see the slight chip in your tooth where you fell off your bike when you were eight and smacked your face off the curb, and I can see the small scar next to your eye where you had an unfortunate incident with the sharp end of an electric toothbrush sans head, and I know that you are not ethereal or perfect. You are just Bella. You are just perfect for _me_. _

-(Never)LetMeGo-

The sudden memory leaves me reeling and I'm forced to grab the bar behind me for support. I chance another glance at her, taking in all the perfect imperfections of her body.

Suddenly, she looks out of the corner of her eye and sees me watching. As if enough scrutiny of a person will cause them to notice you. A melancholy smile crosses her face and she excuses herself from the group to start making her way over to me. I guess the decision about what to do is made for me.

The sudden presence of her makes me wary, unsure if I am ready to handle it. The sudden injection of her into my life after so long without has made me a little dizzy and I'm starting to regret the sheer number of drinks I've had this evening, as I'm sure I'm not in the right state to handle any sort of serious conversation with her right now.

I'm stopped from any further worry as the party seems to start spinning slightly around me, and she finally comes to a halt a few feet in front of me.

It might as well have been miles.

The distance between us is a yawning crevice, separating two people who I once thought were inseparable.

"Hello, Edward," she says, in that soft, soothing voice of hers. "How are you?"

I can't help the snort that comes out at that polite pleasantry.

"Just dandy." I knew I was too drunk to do this. My acerbic reply sends her reeling, the alcohol making me say things i don't mean. Or maybe I do mean them, but this is neither the time or the place. For the first time, I realise that I am angry at her, for not speaking up beforehand, for coming back without a word, for bringing someone else to my parent's wedding anniversary. But I shouldn't be saying these things while I'm not in a position to be thinking about my words.

I can smell her perfume even across the few feet that divides us, and with it comes snatches of memories, glimpses of our time together.

_Naked skin sliding against skin._

_Your legs twined with mine, searching for release._

_Your heels in the base of my spine, urging me faster._

_Your hair wrapped around my fist._

And with the memories comes another change in my emotions. I wonder if it's too late, and start to drown in my hopelessness. My mind is in a haze from all the alcohol, and it's hard to fight my way through it.

Belatedly, I realise that a long moment has passed with both of us locked in this pseudo-staring contest, and for what has to be the millionth time in my life I wonder what Bella is thinking. Sometimes, she has her emotions written all over her face, making her easy to read, but the majority of the time she's a closed book, secrets hidden from me with a secret smile.

I'm thinking of something that would be appropriate to say, but she beats me to it.

"Can we talk? Tomorrow?"

_Your skin, luminescent in the moonlight and uncovered by sheet._

_Your body, curled around mine in slumber._

I shake my head to clear these thoughts and sneer as the short man from the group approaches us.

"What, too busy to talk now? Need to go and fuck someone else?"

I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth, the utter horrified and hurt look on her face enough to bring me out of my jealous rage. The short man approaches us and sees Bella's expression, a concerned look on his face.

"Bella?"

"We'll talk tomorrow," she says definitively, before turning and walking away, the short man in tow.

Like the masochist I am, I watch as they leave together, my blood simmering under my skin, my stomach knotted as she reaches the door. She sends me one last look at the door, but I'm too drunk to figure out her expression. All I can see are her eyes, deep and unending. She looks so much younger than I remember her, and I feel as though I've been punched in the gut.

She looks happier, even though I've made her sad, again.

I'm frozen in place for a good while, and am only jerked out of my little trance when Jasper comes up to me, asking if I've seen a ghost.

"Kind of. I just saw Bella."

Jasper inhales a sharp breath, and I take that to mean that he knows that she was here with someone. When I ask him, he just nods.

"Yeah. He's her colleague from the institute. Apparently he's also from Seattle and had to come back to visit his sick grandmother or something. Bella invited him to keep his mind off of it."

His words are another sock to my stomach and I almost double over with the guilt that hits me.

And so I drown myself in more alcohol.

-(Never)LetMeGo-

Hours later and the party is officially finished. I've basically been chucked out by the caterers, after pretty much emptying the bar of all alcohol, and am walking along the street in a half-assed attempt to make my way home.

I'm so drunk that I'm winding from side to side down the street, the only positive thing about the night being that it's almost four in the morning and so there's not much traffic that I'm likely to get run over by.

To be honest, I don't care what I look like. There are a few people in the street, but I don't notice their stares, because my world is falling down around me. My thoughts are a whirl in my head, no one coming to the forefront, just an overwhelming sense of guilt and hopelessness.

I just need to see her. That one little interaction wasn't enough. It was a bump, and I'm a full out addict at this point, needing more and more and more even though at this point I don't know why she would even want to talk to me. She's going to officially end it now, and even though I'm pretty sure of that outcome I need to see her.

Even if she's going to break me.

-(Never)LetMeGo-

Ugh.

The first thing I'm conscious of is the hard ground beneath me, and the bright light coming in through my closed eyelids. I'm fairly sure I'm not in my apartment, but I'm not going to risk moving or even opening my eyes to confirm that fact.

It's those few blissful moments before you wake up, when you don't remember anything from the night before, your hangover hasn't hit you yet and you don't quite feel like death would be the better option than living feeling like shit.

But then, of course, the need to move becomes more than a need and more of a desperate requirement as you feel all of the liquid consumed the night before filling your bladder and threatening to burst it. With a groan I rolled over onto my back, preparing myself to get up, but immediately regretted it as, even with my eyes closed, the world began to spin violently.

So violently that I promptly turned my head to the side and threw up.

Please, please, let me be somewhere semi-private.

Please, please, please, let me get what I want. In all manner of ways.

After emptying the remaining contents of my stomach I managed to open my eyes. Only to shut them again immediately at the bright sunshine.

So I was outside. Great.

After a few minutes of blinking and shielding my eyes from the bright glare of the sun, I managed to rock into a sitting position, carefully avoiding the pile of sick beside me.

I was in the middle of the pavement outside my apartment building. It was not private at all, there were people milling about, studiously avoiding me and giving me and my sick a wide berth, and worst of all, Bella was looking down at me with a worried-or-something-else expression on her face.

"We need to talk."

* * *

**Thoughts? Comments? Hate mail? Don't worry, all will be resolved. Only one more chapter and the epilogue to go. I'm not going to drag this out forever, promise.**

**Chapter title is Sometime Around Midnight by the Airborne Toxic Event. I've always wanted to write something to go along with this song, as it's the most epic, gorgeous and sad thing. Give it a listen, and don't judge me for how much of it is reflected in this chapter. It's a beautiful song.**


	5. Always Be My Baby

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Twilight. No matter how many stories I write.

This is the last actual chapter, with just the epilogue to go. Told you I wouldn't drag it out for too long :)

* * *

**Chapter 4: Always Be My Baby  
**EPOV

-(Never)LetMeGo-  
**  
**

There's a knock on the door, followed by Bella's soft voice asking me if I'm doing okay.

I know I've spent too long in here, trying to clean myself up a little and make myself a little more presentable, but I'm also avoiding the sight of her here, in what used to be our apartment. It's too surreal. It's too raw.

I'm too hungover.

I brace my hands on either side of the sink and then raise my head to take a look at myself.

It's not pretty.

My eyes are bloodshot and below them are dark purple shadows that make it seem like I haven't slept in weeks.

I suppose the truth is that I haven't.

My skin has an awful grey sheen to it, and even though I've now brushed my teeth three times I can still feel a disgusting film on them.

I splash some cold water on my face, hoping that it might help a little, and then, after patting it dry, I open the door.

Bella is standing there with this haunted look on her face, and all I want to do is fix it. Fix her, fix me, fix us. I want things to be back the way they were - actually no. I want us both to be happy, and I want us to be together.

Is that too much to ask?

After neither of us say anything for a few long minutes, Bella decides to speak up.

"I wanted a chance to talk, Edward." The tone of her voice does not bode well for me, but I'm just glad that she's here. As strange as it is to see her in this setting, the ache that it brings to my chest cannot be denied. I've missed her, so much, and at this point I think I'll take what I can get.

I nod, wincing at the pain that small movement brings me, and then motion towards the living room. I take a seat on the couch, and she sits on the seat furthest away from me. I wince for an entirely different reason.

"Listen..."

"Edward," we both start speaking at the same time and the incongruity of our relationship astounds me. How did we get here? We're so far from where we used to be - we used to be able to finish each others sentences.

"How did we get here?" Bella asks me, and I almost have to stifle a smile. She's thinking the exact same thing I am, and maybe not all is lost.

"I think it started when I stifled you and instead of talking to me about it you fled to the other side of the country to a man named Ben."

Bella visibly recoils and I know I shouldn't have said that. That's a veritable bastardisation of events and I was wrong, but I'm not really in the right frame of mind to be having this conversation.

"Ben isn't..." Bella protests, before shaking her head. "It's not like that," she says simply, leaving no room for argument. And I believe her. If there's anything Bella is bad at it's deceiving people, something that reassures me greatly. Jasper explained it to me last night, but I didn't believe it until I heard it from the horse's mouth, so to speak.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that last night either..." I trail off and shake my head at myself. "It seems I have a lot to apologise for," I mutter, but in the silence of the apartment she hears me.

"I think we both do."

The conversation is stilted, and it's so hard. It's ripping away at my chest until I feel like I can't breathe for how stifling it is.

I wonder if this is how Bella felt before she left.

If it is, I can't really blame her for running as fast as she could.

Bella inhales a sharp breath, and her voice cracks on her next words. "I'm so sorry, Edward. And I miss you. I want you to know that."

I raise my head from where I'd been studiously observing the rug, settling on her face. Her eyes are welled up and she's looking at me with such sincerity that it breaks my heart all over again. "I'm so glad to hear that," I say honestly. "I have missed you," I swallow hard so that I can get my next words out. "So much." They come out as barely a whisper, and then I'm fighting tears.

We both sit there for a moment, trying to regain composure. I recover first.

"I think we need to have an honest conversation," I say, possibly stating the obvious, but it needed to be said. "No hiding or lying about feelings because it might hurt the other person." Bella nods, but the grave look on her face makes me feel like we might need a little time to acclimate.

"Do you want to go get some food first? I'm not sure we should be doing this just yet."

She looks wary for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning as she weighs her options. They seem to weigh in my favour though, as she nods and stands up. "Lunch would be good." She says it definitively, but I'm not sure who she's trying to convince, me or herself.

"Good," I echo, before standing to grab my wallet and keys. "Let's go."

We walk in silence to this small cafe on the corner of the street, someplace we visited often before, but, as if agreed upon, we walk past it to find neutral ground.

We certainly don't need reminders of the past. This is painful enough.

We reach an anonymous all-American looking diner and step inside, the fluorescent lighting hurting my eyes. I squint at the room as we choose a booth, sliding in along the ripped vinyl. The diner is worn, and slightly run down, but still has that homey feel.

This should be fine. We each order from the waitress, an older woman with a deeply lines face and voice which belies her sixty-a-day habit. When she's gone, silence settles over the table.

"So," I say, scrabbling for something, any topic, that will help break the ice. We don't need anything heavy, just some small talk for now will do.

I finally settle on asking about New York. "How was the Big Apple?"

This simple question brings the first smile i've seen all day to Bella's face, a genuine grin settles across her face and I can't help but smile in return. Clearly, no matter what happened between us, New York was definitely a good thing for her.

"You have no idea. I mean, Seattle is a large city, but there's nothing like New York. It's exhausting, but it's also exhilarating," she says, the words dripping off her tongue in her honeyed voice. I'd missed her voice, the way it seems to caress the words that flow out of her mouth. When we were back in high school we used to read to each other to try and study. It usually ended in something that was decidedly not revision, but those moments of peace with just her voice floating through the air are some of my more treasured memories.

We ate the rest of our meal chatting about inconsequential things. It reminded me of when we first started dating; we'd been friends for a long time but the new step in our relationship caused us to discover new things about each other. We'd go to all night diners and stay up for hours just talking. I remember thinking that Bella had such a passion for life, and only now am I seeing that it was diminished.

She seems to have that spark again.

I must have just been smiling like a goof at her, because she set down her knife and fork and dabbed at her mouth. "What, do I have something on my face?"

I laugh at that and shake my head, Bella is nothing if not an incredibly neat eater. "No... I just missed this. Remember that all-night diner on Sycamore?"

Nostalgia fills her eyes and she looks downcast for a moment, studying her plate. When she looks back up at me, her smile is melancholy.

"I remember."

I sense that maybe it's time for our talk, so I finish up quickly, getting the bill and opting to catch a cab back to the apartment so as to get there as quickly as possible. It's probably more than a little wasteful, but I'd rather spend a little money to get there and talk than spend the entire walk back tense and wondering.

We get back to the apartment and immediately take our seats, the same ones as before we left. The air is less thick now, and I feel like I can think more clearly, but there's still a certain tension crackling between us.

"So..." I start, trying to break the silence.

Bella laughs nervously. "I'm not sure where we start," she admits, looking down at her hands. She's doing that thing she does when she's nervous, interlocking her fingers and then separating them, only to bring them together again.

I hate that I make her nervous.

I figure I probably have to take the lead, seeing as she took the first step in even coming here after I was so awful to her last night, so I simply state for her to start at the beginning. "When did you start feeling... like you weren't happy."

Bella's eyes snap sharply to mine. "I was happy, Edward. Don't doubt that. I just wasn't... content. There's a difference." I nod, wanting to understand, but not fully comprehending the difference between the two.

"I'm not sure I understand," I admit. I just need her to talk to me, talk me through this. I need to understand. We used to be so in sync, and I hate that it's come to a point where I can't tell what she's thinking. That she was able to hide something so big from me.

Bella takes a deep breath. "I guess... I felt like I was stuck. Stuck in this life that I didn't exactly plan for. I mean, I love you-" I stop her there, because I'm so astonished.

"You do?" There's more hurt in my voice than I would have liked, but it does the trick.

Her entire body softens, sinking into itself. "Of course I do, Edward. An all-consuming love like that doesn't just go away. I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, I left because I didn't want to start resenting you."

_Ouch._

Bella shakes her head, probably at my visible wince. "That didn't come out right."

Her reticence makes me angry. "No, you did mean it. And fine, it hurt me a little, but that's what got us here in the first place. You, being afraid to talk to me, of hurting me. Just say what you mean, Bella. I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

My words are a little harsher than I intended, but isn't that why we're here? Complete, brutal honesty.

Tell the truth.

Only then can we have a chance of salvaging this.

"Fine," Bella says, a new fire in her eyes. "You want to know how I was feeling? Trapped. Suffocated. I was working that shitty waitressing job to pay the bills so that you could spend twenty hours out of the house and away from me. That's what I felt like."

She had jumped up at this point and was pacing back and forth. I exploded off the couch at her words.

"You felt like I _trapped_ you? Bella, we talked about it. It was only for a little while..." She interrupted me.

"No, it was only for a little while when you were in medical school. Then you graduated and decided to go back for more, and fine, I understand that it took you a while to discover what your dream was, but why does that mean that I have to be put on hold?"

"You never said anything!" I argue. "You should have said something. I would have been supportive-" she interrupted me again.

"Would you, Edward? Because before you seemed to think that photography was frivolous and unimportant. Certainly not as dignified as being a doctor. How could I come to you and explain what I wanted when what I wanted was seen as less than in your eyes?"

I couldn't even get mad at her for talking over me, because one, she had a point, and two, this was a new side to Bella that I hadn't seen before. We'd never had a fight like this, and she'd certainly never spoken up like this.

I was proud of her, even if I was still angry at her.

"Fine, I concede that I was a bit of a pompous ass, but if you'd sat me down and explained it to me, in detail, told me how important it was to you, then of course I would have been supportive. Was there reason to believe that I wouldn't be, if I knew how important it was to you?" My voice got considerably softer towards the end, as I stilled and sank back down onto the couch. Bella followed, sitting next to me now instead of across from me.

"I was scared. Scared I wasn't good enough, scared to even try. So I stayed quiet."

Her words were little more than a whisper, her vulnerability on full display.

I took her hand in between mine, glad for the little reprieve from shouting. "Bella, I love you, so much. But I'm also angry at you, for leaving and not giving me a chance to be there for you. I wish things could have been different.

Fire sparks in her eyes again and she pulls her hand back. Her eyes flash cold steel and I almost physically recoil. "You were the one that gave me the ultimatum, Edward. You were the one that ended things."

Frustrated. I push my hand through my hair, tugging at it. "I didn't mean it. I was angry, hurt. Of course I didn't want things to be over. I still don't," I say, pulling her hand back in between mine and pleading with her with my eyes. "Please, say there's still a chance for us."

I can see her resolve soften, and then her eyes flood with love and she gives me that look, that look of utter adoration, and I've missed it so much that I can feel a lump form in my throat.

"Of course there's a chance, Edward. You're all I've ever wanted."

I shake my head at her lie. "Don't lie to me, don't hide from me. You wanted photography, too."

Bella shook her head, stroking my hand. "Not necessarily. What I was more upset about was that you were never home. I was constantly missing you, and I was so unhappy because you weren't there. But you never seemed like you were missing out. You seemed fine with the distance."

I shook my head, cupping her cheek in my hand, stroking my thumb along her cheekbone.

"I missed you. Maybe not as much as I did once I realised you were actually gone, and I know now that I took you for granted. But I did miss you." Bella closes her eyes and sinks into my hand, exhaling shakily. A tear escapes from underneath her eyelids and runs down her cheek a little before I wipe it away. I kiss the path it made and then her nose, craving the intimacy.

Craving Bella.

I come to rest millimeters away from her lips, her sweet breath fanning out over my face. I want to kiss her so badly, but I want her to want to. I want her to make the first move.

She whimpers a little, my name forming on her lips, and then, ever so gently, she brushes them against mine.

That's all the proof I need.

I kiss her softly at first, tentatively. I don't wan to scare her off, but it's so good and so right that it's hard to maintain control.

Apparently it is for Bella as well, as she deepens the kiss, sliding her tongue along the inside of my lip before slipping it into my mouth.

God, I've missed this. I've missed her.

My hand moves without my permission to tangle in her hair, angling her so that I can kiss her deeper, more.

I would never get enough. Her hands come up, one to the back of my neck, pulling me even closer, the other to my side, fisting in my shirt. Our kisses take on a desperate, needy edge, and before long we're panting into each others' mouths. I pull back, suddenly aware of what we're doing.

"Bella..." I pant, trying to gather my thoughts. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know, but I really don't want to stop," she says, bringing her lips back to mine. "Just... be with me, Edward. Please. I've missed you so much."

How can I argue with that?

I grab her hand and lead the way to the bedroom, pulling her into my arms once we get there. Kissing her softly, I let her take the lead from here, because I'm afraid to go too fast.

Bella takes the hint, deepening the kiss and then reaching down to pull my t-shirt over my head. We undress each other slowly, each new piece of skin being reverently stroked or kissed until we are both naked on the bed.

I feel like we're discovering each other anew.

She lies beneath me, laid out like some magnificent prize and I can't help but stare at her, spread out for me. I can't remember the last time we made love, but I have no doubt in my mind that that is exactly what this is going to be.

Cradled in the cage of my arms, she brings her hands up underneath them to hold onto my back, urging me to move with her hips. Her eyes tell me she's ready, so with no further ado, I slide into her wet heat.

We both groan at our union, and I take a moment to adjust to the feeling of being inside of her again.

Bella squeezes my back, tells me to take my time. We have all day. I kiss a path down her neck to her collarbone and then the valley between her breasts, a path I have taken many times before, but feel as though I am taking for the first time.

She tastes the same.

I begin to rock my hips, slowly pulling out, before pushing back into, deep, so deep that she cries out. I can feel her soul.

She hooks a leg around me, trying to gain some leverage, pull me in deeper, and I know just what she wants, so i lift her a little, changing the angle so that my pubic bone pushes against her clit with every thrust.

She moans in pleasure, grappling for something to hold on to. My pace quickens, wanting her to come first, needing her to get there before me. And I'm already so close.

"Edward," she cries out, and I know she's there, know that I'm the only one that does this to her.

She's mine, just as I am hers.

Her walls start to clench around me, evidence of her orgasm, and I allow myself to be pulled over the edge, releasing into her with a grunt. She pants and strokes up and down my arms, waiting for me to recover. I can feel myself softening inside of her, but I don't want to pull out. I don't want to be apart from her.

Eventually though, i need to dispose of the condom, so I pull out to throw it in the trash.

We both sigh at the loss of contact.

I quickly get back into bed, pulling her into my arms and stroking a hand up and down her exposed back. She hums quietly and burrows into me, nuzzling her nose against my chest. I was never this much of a cuddler, but now I'm not able to get close enough. It will never be close enough.

But then I'm suddenly hit with this overwhelming sense of vulnerability. And as I'm prone to do when I feel exposed, I make a joke.

"So, when you leave this time, would you mind leaving some money on the counter? I need to restock my bourbon supplies."

I immediately regret the words.

I am a stupid, stupid man.

I can feel her stiffen in my arms considerably, and I cringe at myself. "Too soon?"

Apparently that was also the wrong thing to say, because she immediately jumps off the bed and starts putting her clothes back on. She's wrestling her panties back up her legs and just gets them into place before she starts yelling.

"Are you kidding me, Edward? I mean, I get that that was a joke, but seriously. You think that's appropriate?"

I shake my head, reaching for her, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I just... I started to over think and it just came out."

Bella just shakes her head before she starts searching for her bra. She finds it and starts putting it on, muttering under her breath.

I get up, putting on my boxers, "Listen, Bella, I understand that I shouldn't have said that, but I think you're overreacting."

Bella snaps her bra on and glares at me, halting my movement towards her. "Overreacting? Edward! We just-" she starts gasping for breath, big fat tears dripping out of her eyes and it looks like she's having trouble breathing. Her distress jolts me into movement and I start towards her again, but she just holds up a hand, taking big gulps of air to calm herself.

She's still crying when she starts talking again, but seems to be ignoring it. "I... we just did that and then you..." she huffs and takes another deep breath, her hands going around her stomach as if she's trying to hold herself together. She finally calms enough to get some words out and when she does it's a punch to the stomach.

"This is never going to work if you keep on bringing up the past, and I can't, I can't, I can't-" she can't get the words out and I can't just stand here and not comfort her, so I take two long strides over to her. I gather her into my arms and hold her as she sobs, cradling her to me.

I start whispering into her hair, telling her how sorry I am, over and over until she starts to calm.

"I'm sorry, you're right, you're absolutely right. I think... we may still have some things to talk about." Bella nods and sniffs a little burying her face into my chest.

I soothe her, stroking her back, and I think it's working until I can feel her shaking against me. Fearing the worst, I pull back expecting to see her crying again, but instead I see her chuckling lightly.

I must give her a questioning look, because she just gives me a watery smile. "We just look a little ridiculous," she says, shrugging.

I nod and tug her backwards with me until my knees hit the bed and I fall backwards, pulling her down with me until she's straddling my lap. "I'm so sorry," I repeat. "We maybe shouldn't have done that so soon." Bella shakes her head at me.

"No, I'm glad we did. I think we needed that. To reconnect, or something. I just... I want us to be able to discuss it, it's just." She inhales and then lets out a huff of air before ducking her face into my neck and placing a kiss there.

She raises her head again and then looks straight at me, letting me see everything in her eyes. "I just feel so guilty, Edward. If only I'd spoken up sooner, if only I'd told you about the internship..." she trails off and then places her forehead on mine, bringing us so close I can feel her breathing.

"I just don't want to lose any more time with you."

I give a little happy sigh at her words, squeezing her hips tighter. "I don't want to miss any more moments with you." She nods and brings her lips to mine, kissing me sweetly for a few moments, before I reluctantly pull back. I raise a hand to tuck some hair behind her ear, feeling my heart swell with just the sheer proximity of her.

"Please say you'll come back," I ask her, letting my voice reveal the depth of my true emotion.

"If you'll have me," she chokes out, a watery smile gracing her features.

I nod against her forehead, puling her even closer. "Come home."

She breathes shakily and kisses me softly. "I'm not home unless I'm with you," she says, my heart swelling at her words.

"My only home is with you," I reply, and then I pour myself into our kiss.

It's going to take a while, but we'll get there.

Together.

* * *

**I hope that resolved some of the issues for you. It's not perfect, but what relationship is? I'd love to hear your thoughts, comments. Let me know. **

**The title of this chapter is Always Be My Baby by David Cook (originally sung by Mariah Carey, but I prefer David Cook's rugged good looks... and the way he sings it :) )  
**


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